The Angel's Anarchy
by Saki-chan2
Summary: This is only a short intro I had for a story I might do.. I don't mention anything about characters it's in firstperson and seems like it has nothing to do with Digimon which it will eventually be about.


**The Angel's Anarchy**

A solid block of gold stood before myself and my heart; a golden summit that people desire so much. Little do they know how much such a golden barrier separates us from ourselves and the people that circumambient us. I remember calling for help inside myself, but who else could come but myself? So I closed my eyes tightly and trusted desperately that someone would see what sort of erotic pain I was going through. I opened my eyes years later and found no one watching, and went back into my fitful slumber of fearful detachment. Then I felt warm fingers touching my eyelids; a warm voice spilled through my heart, washing it in a warmth that could be found no where else but in the eyes of the one I loved. My love kissed my forehead with their happiness, rejuvenated my soul with their golden eyes, and held my hand with their easy thoughts. If they had found me earlier, I suppose that I would have lived, but as it was, they did not hold me in time. Pain had left scars so deep and indelible that my blood had been cut into itself and nothing but my unsettled mind begged to live.

Some thousands of years later, I stood upon a rolling hill, looked out into the distance, and saw the one I was to protect smiling benignly at the others. His essence was no more greater than those around him, and the decades of being untaught to favor people or things was the only thing that stayed my twitching heart. I watched the wind slide through his hair, pushing and pulling it this way and that, desperately wanting him to be a part of it. But the wind is an unholy lie, and caresses all with the same flirtatious movements. It tugged at him gently, pleading him to come, come and stay awhile, but he brushed back the invitation with his smooth hand apathetically, never taking notice of the wind. Me, my heart throbbed painfully. Oh to touch one inch of his aura! Such pain, such humiliation lends to the conviction that the very man I was to protect is also the holder of my heart without even knowing my name! Should he look this way I would surely melt into the earth and would never be happier to merge with the treaded-on dirt, for that is what I hold myself to be in his eyes. If only I could look at him! His movements, his naivety, his simple yet true thoughts- all these I can watch and love, but I cannot look into his eyes! Mercy has never come to anyone so grudgingly slow, as I sadly wish it in tow, as it has come to me this day! A sigh racks my chest as I look into the distance to watch the man I love converse. His speech is an impassive terse, I have heard it many a time in my slumber, yet never face to face. Oh, why must my love be so inscrutable to those who wish to deter it! Is it so wrong to love a mortal man, and forsake any and all responsibilities given unto you? Perhaps rules should have been laid before hand, not after, when all of my hopes were not yet redivivus. Such cruelty will not pass unnoticed!

Hold, my charge looks here.

What does he see? His eyebrows are arched, his body turning, a question is forming on his lips, but what do his eyes say? Forbidden to look in his eyes! Cruelty at its worst is laws! He walks! Oh, my charge walks towards me, seeking to behold my face closely, but what god will grant me my wish to do the same? He is walking closer, his arms are swinging slightly, his walk scintilla of a swagger, and I hear his voice calling out a greeting. He tells me to hold, but energy is surging through my body in cold and ruthless spurts, urging my legs to run, run, run and not look back. Still, I stand tall. Twenty paces, ten paces, five paces he stops at. I feel his eyes searching my face, silently ordering me to look at him in the eyes. But the wretched fear of punishment is too great! What pain does he see in me! He sees my tears start to fall, but there is no time for him to save me now. He watches my shoulders slump, drawing with them wings in a clump. This time around it was my fault, I know, because I should have never asked to see him. What will he remember of this encounter? Nothing, if I can make it so, only the faded memory of a girl in the clouds, looking down at him, seemingly wanting it not to be so.


End file.
